Narcissus
by Cygna-hime
Summary: [rated for freakyness]'She is in love with her mirror.' A Narcissa and Lucius love story.


Narcissus  
  
Well, looky here! I wrote an HP story, that I did! Now maybe this particular bunny can be laid to rest. Die, bunny, Die! *nervous laugh* Anyway.  
  
This story is blamed on-erm, I mean dedicated to, yeah, dedicated to Liebling and Neko-baka-chan-chan. Liebling, I hereby declare you made me write this pairing. It wasn't my fault, not my fault I tell you! Neko-chan, either stop making your psycho stories so contagious or stop making them so good! Arghybargles! So now I've been inspired. Don't do that to me, you two!  
  
Right. I have now to disclaim. Ahem: I do not own anything which I.do not own. This means Harry Potter and environs. So there. Arghybargles, however, is an exclamation owned by me. Hah!  
  
Warnings: Neko-chan-ness. Go read her stories and you'll know what I mean.  
  
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She is in love with her mirror. She adores the face it shows her. She loves the straight, white-blond hair. She loves the ice- blue eyes. They are like the sky.  
She is black. Black in all ways but looks. Looking bright does not change that. Nobody believes. They're all stupid. She knows they are. It's part of being black, to know. She learns it from her family. They're all black. And they know.  
Because black is different, you see. Black knows.  
She never cares to find love in anyone. Her mirror gives her all the adoration she could desire. But she knows people love her. She likes that. Even though they are stupid and white. The black ones don't love her. They know. Her brightness scares them. The black ones should be dark, they say. She is not. They are dark-black. The stupid ones are bright-white. She is bright- black. She is different.  
She never looks for the love of the dark-black ones. They fear her light. And she doesn't care about the love of the bright-white ones. They are too stupid for her. She never sees if there are dark-white ones. Maybe there are. It doesn't matter. They would be stupid too.  
Her people are all dark-black. She knows. Because they all say so. She believes what they say. Because they know. She doesn't care when she finds they lied. She lies too. And no one ever finds out.  
She doesn't want to love another. Her mirror loves her, and she loves the face it shows. The dark-black ones are the ones she should love. And they don't understand. None of the black ones do. That's what she thinks. Because dark-black is not like bright-black. But she is wrong. She finds out one day. One day she meets a man. A man with straight long hair like chips of ice and eyes like the sky. A man like her. A bright- black man. And he understands.  
She marries that bright-black man. They hold their traditional wedding by a beautiful lake. She wears blue, blue like the sky. He wears blue, blue like the ice. The lake is blue, blue like a mirror. Blue like the wedding mirror they hold between them. Blue like the narcissus in her hair. Blue for their wedding. Blue for their eyes.  
They love each other. She loves this masculine reflection of herself. He loves his feminine shadow. They love each other because they love the selves they see. When she looks into his eyes, from the surface to the core she sees herself looking back. It is like a mirror to be with her forever. She loves her mirror. So she loves him.  
They have a son. She is willing to swear he gets fatter while she is pregnant. He is a bright-black child with flaxen hair and eyes like the winter sky. He is the ice. He is a perfect mirror to their perfection. So they love him.  
She teaches her son. She teaches him the knowing of being black. She teaches him the dreaming of being bright. She teaches him the secret of being bright-black. And he learns.  
His father teaches him the perversion of being dark. He teaches him the hypocrisy of being white. He teaches him the sovereignty of being bright-black. And he learns that, too.  
She loves her son. He is ice. But she loves her husband more. He is not the ice. He is too strong and hard and brilliant. So is she, though she never shows it. He is an ice diamond, reflecting and refracting light from some inner fire just for her. Just for her, because she is another ice diamond, and she understands.  
The mirror shatters. Diamond cracks. Ice smashes. They crash to the solid stone floor in an ecstasy of noise. Laughing, the shining bright-black blade joins them in two pieces. They are destroyed.  
She takes the broken splinters in her arms and covers them with kisses. Her lips are cut and bleeding. She does not care. The beautiful blue mirror lies on the threshold in shards. The gold and blue are ruptured and twisted. She does not mind.  
She loves her broken mirror even more than she did when he was whole.  
  
-La Fin-  
  
See? It's all your fault, Neko-chan! All you! You did this to me!  
  
See the nice, bluey greyey purpley button? See the nice 'Submit Review'? Click it! Good readers! Now type stuff into the nice little box. There you go! Now hit 'Submit'. See? That wasn't hard at all! Bye all! 


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